


The Road to Home - part 4

by MiaCousland



Series: The Road to Home [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Castle Cousland, Family Drama, Highever, painful memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2461328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaCousland/pseuds/MiaCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mia and Alistair make it to Highever but it proves too much for Mia to handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to Home - part 4

**Author's Note:**

> I decided not to write DA erotica for this one as I thought the content/plot/memories were too horrific for it. I didn't want to demean the moment.

If the wind hadn't have lifted her hair and started playing with it, I would have thought Mia a statue. She stood just above me on the hill, atop the crest of the peak we had just climbed. I lingered on the path that ran just below the top and as such could not see what she stared at. Not that I couldn't guess. For a few days now, her conversation had slowed and her demeanour had been more introverted, more solemn. It was most obviously dominating her every thought. We hadn't made love since we had said goodbye to Zevran the morning after our disastrous attempt at outdoor romancing.

I knew what was coming and I could guess how much the next week was going to hurt her. I would have picked somewhere else as a honeymoon destination, somewhere like Antiva. Lounging on one of their beaches or drinking our way through their vineyards would have been wonderful. However, Mia had asked me, somewhat nervously at first but then giving way to impassioned pleading, that we go to Highever for our honeymoon. Of course I had agreed. What my wife wants, she gets. Usually because I can't seem to say no to the woman. She just has to look at me with those soulful, large blue eyes and my mind turns to jelly. I end up just hearing myself witter on, spouting random snatches of sentences my brain makes a quick grab for and then vomits out of my mouth.

Looking up at her gazing out over countryside unseen to my eyes, I heaved a sigh. What I had expected, yet dreaded, was just a few hours away. There was no getting away from it. I would just hold my arms out, ready to embrace my broken wife at every opportunity she required it. There was only one way I could sympathise when it came to losing family. Cailan and Maric were family, I suppose, but only perfunctorily. Arl Eamonn could well be termed family but it had been years since I had lived with him. However, Duncan – well, Duncan had long meant something more to me. My heart had been ripped from my chest when he had been killed on the battlefield at Ostagar and my soul wouldn't let me forget it. Huh. Maybe I could be of some use to Mia after all, in a morose way.

I let the horses feed on the meagre grasses that lined the road and looped the reins around a sturdy rock. Climbing up to stand next to her, I saw a vast swathe of land slope down towards the Waking Sea. The forests I had come to expect of The Coastlands started to thin out and as the land ran to meet the water, more farmlands could be seen splitting up great woods and making more use of the terrain. There was a great road that could be seen wending its way to the coast, at the end of which sprawled a great city. I pursed my lips and sighed through my nose as I saw a great castle nestled in between the buildings of this large settlement.

I turned to look at Mia. Her jaw was set with a fury I had not seen in her and was trembling ever so slightly, as if she was determined not to break and dissolve. Her eyes were staring at her home but I doubt she saw it. I dread to think what she was looking at, or what she was recalling seeing. With dogged determination, she was managing to hold onto the tears that had formed around her eyes.

“My love?” I asked softly.

When I received no answer, I reached for her hand. She jerked it away. It broke the spell of her stillness and she moved, brushing away the tear that, with my interruption, had taken its chance of escape. She turned away from the painful vista and looked anywhere but into my eyes. Eventually, she stood still once more, staring at her feet this time, her back to the home of her childhood.

“'Fergus' scouts will have seen us already.” she told me, after a pause.  
“No doubt.”  
“They can be trusted not to spread the word about who approaches. Don't worry.” came the practical response.  
“The Lady of Highever returns to her home. You will be recognised as you ride through the streets, my darling.”  
“And as such, people will know that the daughter of Highever married the King. They will put two and two together about who rides at my side. We will have a week, maybe a few days longer, before a retinue arrives from Denerim.” Mia sighed sadly.  
“If we walk boldly in via the Main Gate, we might. If we slip in another route, we may have longer.” I suggested.  
“We've spent a week and a half travelling across the countryside and we only argued for three weeks away anyway. Our time is up. We may as well announce ourselves properly.”  
“Well, let us make a compromise. We ride in without pomp and circumstance, just slip in amongst the others that ride in and out. We could blend in, you never know. If we wear our armour, people wouldn't see our faces, would they?” I said, trying to be bright.

Mia finally looked up at me. Her forehead wrinkled in something akin to pity.

“And just how long do you think it would take the guards to tell us to remove our helmets? Really, Alistair...”

I resumed my silence as she turned back to look at the city and castle that awaited her arrival. There was so much pain in those eyes that it made me want to jump forward and hug her until it was all okay again. But it could never be all okay.

“This is going to be really hard, Alistair.” she finally admitted in a steely voice.  
“I know, my love, I know.”

She flashed me a look to tell me that I could never know and for that long moment, I felt empty. However, for the first time, I felt the most horrific of feelings; I felt anger towards her. Of course I knew. Family weren't just those to whom one was related by birth. I had lost family too. I beat down those negative feelings quickly though. Her reaction was understandable. I bit my lip and said nothing.

As we rode up to a fairly large gate into the city, I was pleased to see that many people were filing back into the city. I could only imagine that the threat of the darkspawn had not completely left the imaginations of the citizens, and as such they only felt safe inside the mighty stone walls of Highever. There was a fair amount of traffic so we blended in. We had dismounted just a short walk off. Lots of carts were being pulled into the city so we thought we would have the advantage of hiding better if we were not riding.

As we walked under the portcullis, its heavy wooden spikes pointing ominously down on us, I tried to keep my head forward but, much to my own stupidity, I couldn't help but take one last look up at the guards. There were many keeping watch at the end of the working day. I realised my heart was racing away with itself. Why though? I knew why, of course. I wanted to be Alistair still, not King anybody. If we had been spotted, I would have lost that part of me that had sung over the past week or so. Mia had seen me as the man from the word go, albeit 'the stupid man with the prattling mouth'. Her words. She allowed me to be me and over the past week, I hadn't had to worry about courtly anything, or upsetting diplomats, or proper procedure. I could just be me, and I adored her for it.

With a huge sigh of relief, we passed through the gatehouse without incident and into the city beyond. It was an immense place, strewn with large, gabled buildings. It was obvious that it had not been left untouched by the darkspawn. Here and there, holes in streets could be seen where buildings had been ripped down. Soot marks and torched roofs were some of the signs that fires had broken out all over town. Mia walked ahead of me and I saw her constantly look about her, even though she tried to keep her head down. Her shoulders were hunched high and every so often, I could hear a gasp escape her lips. After having spent every day with her for the past year or so, I was an expert in her body language. It was painful to see how tense she was, and how hurt. Looking around Highever, the town was tarnished and it was awful to see that it was not what she expected to find, or to show off to me.

Passing along the main thoroughfares, we eventually came to a grand stone building. Mia's posture changed almost instantly. Her shoulders dropped, she stood up taller and a regal air flowed out of her. This was what she was born to, though anybody else might have missed the slight halt that she made when she looked up at her former home. Bold as brass, Mia walked up to pass into the gatehouse.

“Halt!” came the shrill cry.

A junior guardsman sprinted across to where we were, followed quickly by a troupe of guards who tried to call him back. Evidently they had recognised who stood before the closed barricade. However, it was too late for the doomed man. They stood waiting, battle ready to jump on the man if he did anything stupid. Anxious eyes darted back and forth between the lone vanguard and the King and Queen. I felt sorry for the boy and, for my shame, slightly amused.

“Who are you, and why do you want to go into the castle?” he barked, clearly thinking he was above his station. A spear was pointed at the two of us.

I groaned internally. Knowing Mia's darkening mood, she was likely to rip his head from his shoulders. There were almost thunder clouds rolling in the heavens above us, such was the black look that she shot to the poor lad. She let him squirm under her gaze for a pregnant moment.

“Let Teyrn Cousland know that his sister is at the gate.” she menaced quietly, daring him to retaliate.  
“His … sister?” the poor man stuttered as the words sunk in, his spear clattering to the cobbled ground before. “My most humble and abject apologies, Lady Mia. Please forgive me.”

Then came the worst bit.

“But that means ...” he gulped as he looked at me. I nodded silently and waved. I tried to smile to reassure the man but I caught a glance from Mia. My attempt at friendly civility had not gone down well.

With loud groans of wood, the main castle gates creaked open noisily. One of the other guards came forward to grab the fool by the shoulder and hoist him backwards. Mia's horse whinnied as she yanked forward the reins and hurried under the archway. Some stablelad rushed forward to relieve her and she hurried off. My own horse was taken off me. After a quick thank you, as fast as I could, I walked after my wife who had set a spritely pace.

I turned the corner and came to a halt, a frown instantly creasing my brow. She stood, alone, in an empty courtyard. My heart erupted in pity as I looked at her. Pain was rife here; both in the archtecture around us and in the heartbreak radiating out of every muscle in Mia's body. The high stone walls were oppressive, here and there masonry was being repaired by absent craftsmen, and several windows were in the process of being reinstalled. I doubted very highly this was the home she had known, but I could guarantee it was the castle she had fled. I did not know what Mia was experiencing but I knew returning to a devastated and broken homestead was not helping.

I knew she was approaching utter devastation so I walked forward to wrap my arms around her. Just as I went to do so, large wooden doors that I could see beyond three stone arches slowly swung open and Fergus stepped brightly out.

“Darling little sister! You made it!” he cried, walking over to Mia and hugging her. It was almost as if the miasma of despair that swamped her was toxic. Within seconds, his bright bearing had drooped and his smile had disappeared. “I know, sis. I know.”

The little shoulder twitch was when I knew that Mia was about to explode. Fergus was oblivious but I knew.

“Come, warm yourself by the fire.” he told her, attempting to cajol her into moving inside.  
“No, dear brother.” she very firmly retaliated. “We have been travelling for days. I am tired, hungry and filthy. I would like to be shown to my quarters. I would also like a bath.”  
“Of course. Whatever you want.”

He nodded to a few waiting servants who had joined us, implicitly giving orders.

“Ser Ardal,” he called out to what I could only presume was his seneschal, “I would like to see my captain of the guard. Right away, in my study. And order the castle doors to be locked and bolted. Nobody now comes in or out of this place without my express permission.”

To me, he nodded. I knew the lack of deference was not due to any lack of esteem; I had always got on with Fergus. Indeed, the night before the coronation, along with him and Teagan, we had slipped out to nurse an ale or two in a quiet pub in Denerim. It was all his idea. Honest. No, I had asked him to just treat me as a Warden, as indeed that's what I was, and now his brother-in-law too.

A servant showed us through the labyrinth of corridors that made up Castle Cousland. It was as richly furnished as any I'd seen. I paid it no mind. I was more focussed on the melting of my wife. When we reached the door to our quarters, Mia just opened the door and walked right in. I nodded my thanks to the man who tactfully left quickly. I entered the warm room and shut the wooden door behind me. Mia had walked over to a table and poured herself a glass of something amber. Knocking it back, she sucked in air through her teeth. The crystal decanter that she held in her hand trembled slightly as she proceeded to pour another one.

“My love?” I tentatively called out.  
“This is my old room.” she said, half laughing uncontrollably but finally meeting my eyes. I almost looked away from the pain.  
“It's lovely. What a large fireplace!” I babbled, desperate to keep her talking.

She looked around silently. Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed as she stared at the bed first, and then the fire, then the paintings. Another pregnant pause made me talk to fill the awful void of deathly quiet.

“Listen,” I said, walking forward to go to soothe her. “I know...”  
“NO!” she suddenly roared.

The decanter that had been in her hands exploded on the wall with an almighty crash. My shoulders slowly returned from the hunched position as I looked to her.

"Why won't people stop saying that they know? How can they know?" she mewled. “'You know'? You know … what!?” she said in despair, angry tears finally streaming down her face. “You know what it's like to wake from your sleep to your home being invaded? You know what it's like to have your family betrayed by the man your father had called his best friend? You know what it's like to find the _violated_ and dead bodies of your sister-in-law and nephew? You know what it's like to say goodbye to your mother as she performs the ultimate sacrifice a mother can by defending her child to the death? ” Mia stopped to stifle a sob. “You know what it's like to cradle your dying father as he sends you away from harm? _Knowing_ you will never see them again! 'You know?' Alistair, you know _fuck all!_ ” she screamed.

And so it poured out of her. Tears beyond counting fell in many, many waves as she slunk to the floor in utter desolation, covering her face and weeping. She bent forward so her forehead was on the floor and her shoulders wracked up and down. I ran over and dropped to the floor beside her, pulling her up to my embrace. As my arms closed around her, I could feel her whole body shaking with grief. I could only hold her. She clawed at my jacket and looked wildly up into my face.

“Make it stop, Alistair. Please make the pain stop.” she begged, pleading frantically with me and gulping air between sobs.

All my power was for nothing. I felt the pinnacle of uselessness. I had power as a Grey Warden and had fought an Archdemon. Nothing. I was King, for fuck's sake. Nothing. I was a good man! Nothing. As I looked down into my wife's eyes, watching her die inside, I could do nothing, except maybe one thing. I sat back and drew her into a protective cuddle. I lost track of the time she sat there, soaking my clothes with her tears. This breakdown had been over a year in the making. She had trusted no-one – not even her own brother – to see this. Just me. That intimacy was why I loved her. She let me see her as her, not as the Grey Warden or as the Queen, but my Mia.

And for that, I would hold her as long as she needed.


End file.
